The First Pancake
by themidnightstar
Summary: Charlie develops a family traditon in an attempt to cheer Don up. First two chapters set in childhood. Third chapter set in present.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs or any of the characters. This story is not for profit and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1 – Childhood Flashback

"Charlie? Where are you?"

Charlie's head shot up as he heard his teenaged brother bounding up the stairs two at a time. Charlie hopped down from his chair and darted toward the door, only to be halted by a stern voice.

"Stop!"

Turning around, he faced his new tutor who coolly noted, "I don't recall dismissing you."

"But Don's home!" Charlie exclaimed as if that explained everything. And to Charlie, it did. Math was fun, but he could work on math problems any time. Don wasn't always so available.

"We still have a few minutes left before our time is up. Surely…"

They were interrupted by a voice from the doorway. "Ah, here you are! Come on, Charlie, let's go."

Before Charlie could respond, the tutor stepped between the two boys. "You must be Charlie's older brother."

From the disapproving tone of the man's voice, Don understood his brash entrance was unwelcome and tried to make amends. "Yeah, I'm Don. Sorry for interrupting Charlie's lesson. It's nice to meet you."

Don stuck out a hand to shake, which the man ignored. "I'm Charlie's new tutor, Mr. Taper. We were just in the middle of a lesson on partial derivatives in multi-variable problems. Perhaps you'd care to join us?"

Backing up, Don waved his hands as if to fend off the suggestion. "Ah, no, that's okay. I just wanted to see if Charlie was free to play a little one-on-one before dinner."

Sensing he had the advantage, the tutor pressed on. "No? Not much of a mathematician? Guess you're just the first pancake of the family. Believe me, I've seen it before. Now, if you'll kindly leave us to our work…"

Charlie was about to protest that he wanted to play, when he caught the look on his brother's face. Don couldn't have looked more shocked if he'd been slapped. Confused, he turned to Don asking, "What's that mean, 'the first pancake'?"

Don smiled, but didn't quite meet Charlie's eyes as he answered. "Forget it, buddy. Doesn't matter. You, ah, you finish your math lesson. I'll… see you later."

"Don, wait!" Charlie called after him, but Don continued to rush from the room.

2


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Childhood Flashback

On Sunday morning, Don and Charlie stumbled down the stairs in search of breakfast. When the boys entered the kitchen, they found their parents inspecting the contents of the refrigerator. Don teasingly called out, "Aww, Mom, you're not letting Dad cook again are you?"

Without turning around, she replied, "Now that Charlie's a little older, I'm going to start taking a few classes at the community college. Which means everyone is going to need to help out around the house a little more. That's why your father is learning how to cook."

Smiling at her husband she added, "Not that he needs much help. Before long, he's going to be a much better cook than I am."

Don's snort of disbelief was quickly silenced when Alan turned a quieting gaze on his oldest son. "Perhaps you should make yourself useful and set the table, hmm?"

Don offered a token grumble of dissent, but quickly set out to perform the task. As he made his way around the table placing plates and utensils, Charlie trailed after him adjusting each piece of silverware into a perfect 90-degree angle from the edge of the table. Don had long ago given up on getting Charlie to understand why someone might find that annoying and instead developed a habit of placing the silverware askew just so Charlie would have something to fix.

Alan rubbed his hands together and exclaimed, "Alright! What should I make today?"

All week, Charlie had been wondering about Mr. Taper's little "pancake" comment. He'd asked Don, but Don just shrugged it off. Seeing an opportunity to solve the mystery, Charlie suggested pancakes and his father happily accepted the challenge.

Don shot his brother a warning look, but Charlie pressed on. "What does it mean to call someone or something the first pancake?"

His mother pondered the question as she gathered ingredients for her husband to stir into a big mixing bowl. "Well, the first pancake is sort of a test run. You watch it carefully and adjust the heat if it's cooking too fast or too slow. That way, the second pancake and all the ones after that come out perfect. So, I suppose it would mean you were describing something as a weak or failed first attempt."

Charlie's eyes met Don's over the table. Charlie's eyes were wide with shock, while Don's held a mix of embarrassment and sadness. Unaware of the silent exchange at the table, their parents continued chatting.

"Right, right. It's that old saying 'The first pancake is always spoiled.'" Alan laughed, "You know, I never understood what that meant!"

Don wordlessly finished setting the table and drifted out of the room. Charlie abandoned his self-appointed task and raced after him.

Catching up to his brother, Charlie declared, "It isn't true!"

Don shrugged. "It's okay, Charlie."

"It's not okay. You're not the first pancake!"

Don ruffled Charlie's hair and offered him a smile, but it was obvious Mr. Taper's comment still stung.

The brothers sat in silence for some time as Charlie struggled to find a way to put into words what he was feeling. Don wasn't a failed first attempt! Don wasn't a failed anything. Charlie didn't see him that way and he knew their parents didn't. But obviously, Mr. Taper did. "It's the experimenter expectancy effect!"

Don looked puzzled and then frustrated. "I don't understand."

Charlie rushed to explain. "Sometimes the expectations of the experimenter can affect the results. An experimenter with preexisting expectations about a human or animal test subject's abilities gives off cues. Test subjects can pick up on those unspoken cues of the person conducting the experiment."

Don shrugged. "So?"

"So, Mr. Taper expects people to excel in math. When someone doesn't, he expects that person to be a failure in all areas. And because he expects you to be a failure, you feel like a failure. Mom and Dad and I… we don't see you that way. We know you're good at sports and…"

"No, Charlie, no. It's not a matter of expectations. No matter how well somebody expected me to perform, I couldn't do what you do. Believe me, when Mom and Dad were first figuring out that you were gifted, they put me through the ringer trying to see if I had it too. I'd never done so many math problems in my life. 'Charlie, can add four digit numbers in his head. You try it.' I hated it."

Charlie was startled. "I… I never knew that."

"Yeah, well, you were three years old at the time. If it didn't involve math or Blue Bear, you were pretty oblivious."

Charlie smiled at the comment. Blue Bear, a now tattered stuffed animal, still held a place of honor at the head of Charlie's bed; but in his younger days Blue Bear had been his constant companion. Don had reinforced his rank as hero in Charlie's eyes by rescuing Blue Bear many times. Charlie had a habit of running off and forgetting his toy, only to become hysterical hours later when he suddenly realized Blue Bear was lost. Don would head off in search of the bear, retracing Charlie's steps and checking all of Charlie's favorite spots in the backyard and around the house until the bear was found.

It had become a ritual between them. Having learned that Don could always successfully find the bear, he instantly calmed down once Don said the words, "It's okay, Charlie. I'll find Blue Bear."

Charlie wished he had a similar phrase of comfort to offer Don. Suddenly, inspiration struck. Charlie dashed back into the kitchen. "Mom! Dad! Can I have the first pancake?"

Alan turned to his son with a look of chagrin. "I don't think so, Charlie. It was, ah, pretty bad. I gave up on it after a couple of bites." Reaching for the plate it was resting on he added, "I think we'd better throw it out."

"Dad, please! Can I have the first pancake, please?"

With a shrug, Alan relented and handed over the small plate containing one slightly burnt pancake with a couple of bites missing. Slowly and reverently, Charlie carried it over to the table and placed it down with a flourish befitting a Thanksgiving Day turkey. His parents exchanged amused glances, but said nothing.

When breakfast was ready and the rest of the family was settling into their chairs, a subdued Don slunk into the room and threw himself into his chair. Unaware of the cause of his son's mood, Alan observed, "Uh-oh. This seems like the start of a serious brood. What's up, Donnie?" After receiving no reply, he continued, "I suppose this cheerful disposition is also the reason you couldn't set the table like a normal person? It looks like you just threw everything down."

Before the boys could say anything, his wife calmly replied, "That's Charlie's job. Don sets the table and Charlie straightens. I'm guessing Charlie got distracted and didn't finish. Right, Charlie?"

"Right," Charlie answered. Alan muttered something about not realizing setting the table was such a difficult task it required two people. Don slid further down in his seat.

Hoping to change the subject, Charlie hastily shoved a big bite of pancake in his mouth and announced, "This is the best pancake I ever had. I don't know why anyone would want to throw it away. I think this is the best one."

Alan answered, "Well, thank you, Charlie. It's nice to know my cooking is appreciated. Although next time I'd prefer it if you waited until your mouth wasn't full, hmm? Yeah, these pancakes didn't turn out half bad, huh? Who knows, maybe I'll start cooking more often."

"Mmm! I like the sound of that!" his wife cheered. This launched a friendly debate over who should cook dinner that evening.

Knowing their parents were distracted, Don whispered, "It's okay, Charlie. You don't have to eat it." Reaching for the stack of pancakes in the middle of the table, he added, "Here, I'll get you another one."

Placing his hand on Don's arm, Charlie insisted, "It's okay, Don. The first pancake is my favorite."

Smiling, Don relented and turned his attention back to his own plate. His mood seemed to improve over the course of breakfast, and he was positively cheerful that evening when Charlie announced to his parents that he disliked his new tutor immensely and refused to work with him ever again.

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Present Day

"Hey, Charlie. What's up?" Don blinked up at Charlie and suppressed a yawn. He'd fallen asleep on the couch last night after talking with his brother until well past 3 am. A bust led by Don had ended badly and an agent had been shot. The wounded agent had survived surgery but was still in critical condition. Don's assault plan had been solid and the team had performed well under fire. Still, Don felt responsible.

Don hadn't said as much, of course. He'd spoken of procedure and training as he obsessively went over the events leading up to the shooting again and again. Words like guilt and failure were carefully avoided. But Charlie knew. Don took seriously his responsibility to his team and viewed any injuries they suffered in the line of duty as a direct result of his failure to protect them.

Charlie smiled down at his brother. "I made pancakes. Of course, I've got dibs on the first one."

Don groaned as he pulled himself into a seated position on the couch. "Oh, man. I'd almost forgotten about that. The first pancake." Don stretched and stifled another yawn before continuing, "Whatever became of that old tutor of yours? The one who inspired that little tradition?"

"Who? Tapeworm? Ah, who cares?" Charlie shrugged. After hesitating a moment, Charlie quietly asked, "That wasn't the first time you'd heard the expression was it?"

Don pursued his lips together before simply replying, "Nope."

Charlie waited, but Don didn't seem inclined to volunteer any more information on when he'd first heard the insult. They lapsed into silence for a moment, each lost in their thoughts.

Charlie was surprised when Don began softly chuckling. "Hey, you remember that time, a couple weeks before high school graduation…"

Charlie groaned. "Oh! And you made that pancake!"

Don laughed. "Yeah. I made sure every pancake after that one was golden-brown and perfect. But the first one…"

Charlie jumped in, "The first one was charred totally black on both sides! And still raw in the middle! How high did you have the heat set anyway?"

Don's only reply was an evil grin. He shrugged, "I just wanted to see if you'd really eat it."

"And I did. Every bite!"

Laughing, Don nodded. "I know."

Charlie's comically affronted expression just made Don laugh harder.

They could laugh about it now, but that blackened pancake marked a truce that ended weeks of tension between the brothers leading up to graduation. The ritual of the first pancake, taken to an extreme, had allowed them to express things they couldn't say. For Don, it had been both an outlet for his spiteful resentment of his genius brother and a way to seek reassurance that Charlie still needed him. For Charlie, accepting Don's challenge had felt like a rite of passage.

Shaking off the memory, Charlie stood up. "Come on, the first pancake awaits."

"Charlie, no, come on. It was cute when we were kids, but you don't have to choke down the first pancake anymore."

Charlie grinned. "Actually, you're right."

Don looked slightly taken aback. "Well… good. That's right. You shouldn't…"

"No, no. I fully intend to eat the first one. I just won't have to choke it down." Charlie bounced on his feet in excitement. "You see, I've developed an equation to ensure the griddle is at the optimal temperature before I start cooking. That way, the first pancake is just as good as the last one. The key is allowing enough time for the griddle to evenly rise to the proper temperature before you begin. Once I factored in all the griddle performance factors, including energy input rate, preheat energy requirement, production energy consumption rate, idle energy consumption rate, and production cycle time…"

Recognizing the indulgent smile on Don's face, Charlie wrapped it up. "…Well, then it was easy to make the first pancake just as good as the rest."

Don stood up from the couch, pausing to stretch. "So, what you're saying is, given enough time, the first pancake can turn out okay?"

"Something like that."

Don nodded. "Good to know."


End file.
